We were sitting at the base of a tall tree and there
was a certain bush close by with bright red berries when they were
unripe. They look good to eat. But when they ripened, they grew fat and
juicy, the size of a grape, and of a liverish color. I thought that one
of them had fallen on my left forearm and went to flick it off. Instead
of being that, the thing burst into a blood splotch as soon as I hit it.
That was the first time I had been bitten by one of those bugs. They are
about the size of a sheep tick when empty, but they get on you and suck
and suck, till they are full of your blood and size of a grape. Queer
things, but ugly. Ista laughed as you would laugh if you saw a nigger
afraid of a harmless snake. It's queer that it should be considered a
joke when one fears something that another does not.
"But that has nothing to do with the story. What has, is that Ista
wanted to tell me about the ceremonial. She did not believe in it at
all. Privately, she was a kind of atheist among her people, but kept her
opinions to herself. You must not think that because you see, hear or
read of savage rites, that all the savages believe in those things. No
sir. There is as much disbelief amongst them as with us. Perhaps more.
They think things out. I might say that in a way they think more than
the average civilized man.
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